


Midnights in Ice Cream

by nagi_schwarz



Series: The Oppenheimer Effect [31]
Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: AU, Crossover, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-07-11 02:47:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7024159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagi_schwarz/pseuds/nagi_schwarz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the comment_fic prompt: "Stargate Atlantis, John Sheppard/Rodney McKay, the benefits of psychology." </p><p>John's start to therapy is rough, and there's only one cure: ice cream.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Midnights in Ice Cream

Rodney was deeply skeptical of the soft sciences, not because he didn’t understand them but because what they were based on and what they explored was so...fuzzy. He’d relented on them a little bit when he learned about Ascension, how there seemed to be some kind of element to mortal existence that transcended physical form (he refused to call it a soul). He relented more when he saw how much therapy helped Evan, whose visits had decreased in frequency (along with his nightmares and flashbacks). Now that John was going to therapy (he’d refused meds, insisted he wanted to try with just therapy first), Rodney wasn’t sure he was so fond of the practice after all.

Because John wasn’t sleeping well at all. He saw Dr. Robinson at the Mountain, same as Evan, only he went every week. And his nightmares were getting worse. He was sleeping worse. He was getting jumpier and grouchier during the day.

The third night in a row that John got out of bed and went upstairs, enough was enough. Rodney waited till he couldn’t hear John’s footsteps, then he followed. He tip-toed up the stairs, wary about waking anyone else. But there was a light on in the kitchen, and voices.

Rodney paused just beside the door and listened. There was the clink of dishes, and Tyler said,

“Ooh, pass the Black Forest.”

“Age before beauty,” JD said, with that familiar O’Neill air that was part condescension, part sarcasm, all fondness.

“I can’t believe you eat that,” Evan grumbled. “Give me good old-fashioned pistachio gelato any day.”

“You’re a food snob,” John said. “But gelato is definitely better than ice cream.”

“Bite me, White Collar,” Evan returned.

“I would, but I suspect your boyfriends and mine might take issue with that.”

JD said, “As one of his boyfriends, I can say that _I_ might be open to a -”

“Not in front of the children,” Evan broke in hastily, and JD laughed.

“So,” Tyler said, “still pretty rough?”

“Yeah. I can’t believe I thought this was a good idea.” John sighed.

Rodney listened the clink of spoons on ceramic. They were having a midnight ice cream party.

“You’re at the beginning,” Evan said. “Rapport-building is done. Now you have to talk about the hard things.”

“The hard things are pretty hard,” John said.

“What was it you did for the Air Force?” Tyler asked. “Can you say?”

“I was a chopper pilot for Pararescue,” John said.

“Oh. Those guys are super badass, right? More than, like, SEALs or Rangers or anything.”

“I couldn’t say,” John began, but Evan and JD both grunted the Marine _ooh-rah!_ in derision, and John laughed.

“So...what did you do?” Tyler asked.

“I wasn’t Pararescue myself, just one of their pilots. Pararescue guys are certified EMTs on top of all the other stuff they have to do, and I about brought the house down one time when Rodney had a fever.” John sounded chagrined. “When they needed to be transported someplace to do a rescue, I flew them.”

“Was it scary?”

“Very,” John said.

“Did you see a lot of dead bodies?”

“Tyler,” Evan scolded.

“Sorry.”

“Yeah,” John said, quietly.

“We all did,” Evan said.

JD said nothing.

“It gets better,” Tyler said.

John made a questioning noise. “I’m okay with my sexuality, thanks.”

“I mean - therapy,” Tyler said. “It hurts at first. Ripping the band-aid off the wound, you know. But - it doesn’t get easier. It just gets better. You get better at handling it.”

“Thanks,” John said.

“I saw a dead body once,” Tyler said. “My grandpa.”

Evan made a low, soothing noise. He was probably ruffling Tyler’s hair or rubbing his back like he did whenever someone near him was upset.

“My dad beat him to death. Got super drunk and just kept hitting and hitting and hitting him. So they took him away to prison, and my mom married my little sister’s dad. That guy was a junkie, and he turned my mom into a junkie. So the state took us away.”

Cam knew everything about Tyler, had been allowed to read his entire foster care file prior to adopting him. They’d all known that Tyler’s parents were drug addicts, that he’d been separated from his half-siblings and put into foster care. But none of them had known this.

“I woke up when I heard the yelling and I came into the kitchen and there he was. Lolo. Dead on the floor. His face was all wrong and there was blood everywhere and -” Tyler broke off.

“Hey,” John said gently, “if you don’t want to talk about it, you don’t have to.”

“Obviously it still upsets you,” JD said cautiously.

“Yeah. But I don’t want to run away or hit someone when I think about it now,” Tyler said.

“Do you need a hug?” John asked. “I can give you a hug. I’m just really bad at telling when someone needs a hug.”

Tyler laughed and said, “Sure, I’ll accept a hug from you.”

And there was silence, and then more spoons scraping bowls.

“Tyler’s right,” Evan said. “Therapy does get better. Over time, it gets better.”

“I know it will,” John said. “I just need to get through the beginning. Like basic.”

“Like basic,” JD said.

“One thing I like about therapy, though,” John said, “I’m getting better at knowing what I’m feeling. Hell if I can tell what anyone else is feeling, ever.”

“Ah, yes. Mindfulness,” Tyler said wisely.

“What do you feel, most of the time?” Evan asked. “If it’s not too personal.”

“Well, these days I feel like a wreck. Keep seeing ghosts out of the corners of my eyes. But on a day-to-day basis, what I feel is...happy. Especially when I’m around Rodney. I feel all warm inside, and I’m just so in love with him.” John sounded like he was smiling.

“Hey, not in front of the kids,” JD said, and then, “Ow! Child abuse. I mean, sorry, Tyler. Ow! Abuse of the elderly! What is it with you people?”

“You hit right back,” Evan said.

“Hey,” JD said, offense forgotten, “can I try some of that gelato? I haven’t had gelato since this one time in Italy -”

“Were your parents stationed in Italy?” Tyler asked.

“...Yes.”

Rodney breathed a sigh of relief, turned, and headed back to bed. He knew John would come to him soon enough, and they could go back to sleep.


End file.
